Air
by redFaust
Summary: He is the killer, the eagle, the Assassin. Reviews welcome


**Author's Note:** I never played Assassin's Creed before so do forgive me if some details aren't right I own none of the characters

Deep in the country of sands, a tall castle made of stone stood upon a hill. Its people were around its grounds, trying to defend themselves from their foreign enemies. Men who spoke a different tongue, who looked different and dressed unfit for the country they were in. Even their fighting skills were different as they swung their maces or thrust their falchions. Their roared at their opponents who instead fought with smaller weapons but in quicker movements, running away from the foreigners before any sword blow could land on them.

And on top of the castle, three men watched what was happening below.

'Lets hurry,' the youngest one said, gesturing for the other two to move. The eldest, with a dark beard surrounding his mouth, respectfully allowed the third man to take the lead, the man neither eldest nor youngest.

In a thin formation, the men tip toed their way around the outside of the castle's wall, carefully placing their feet on specially marked stones. Their efforts were quick and nimble, all three familiar with the task and the feel of being hundreds of metres above the ground. Wind rippled their white robes, lifting the red sash of the leader.

Finally reaching the end of the curve, the men found themselves on a small foundation that ended like a cliff face to a small path almost a hundred metres below where three bales of hay stood. At the edge of the cliff were three wooden planks pointing out into the clear blue sky. The planks were sturdy and all three men knew what to do without a second thought.

As each ran to a plank, the leader choosing the very first one. Slowly, he placed one foot after another over the plank until the tips of his leather boots met the end of the wood. He didn't look at his comrades, in truth he didn't even care much about them. The young one, named Rauf, was nothing but a wide eyed puppy while the second one he didn't know and had no reason to. To him, they were mere amateurs. _He_ was the master.

'Get ready,' Rauf called out softly.

The leader let the words travel to him but made no motion of his acknowledgement. Angling his head slightly down, letting the clean and fresh air to cool down his burning neck, he looked at the battle field below. From the cliff, people were about the size of ants and their cries were but whispers in the wind.

Turning his face up this time, the leader closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, spreading the fingers on his hands to feel the air around him. In the silence and isolation, he felt as of he was part of the air and wind. He felt the empty space of his missing left ring finger, he felt the air take its place. He didn't regret allowing it to be chopped off. It was a sacrifice, yes, but one that gave him a future.

'Ready...,' Rauf said slowly, a plank away from the leader still indulged in his surroundings.

Smelling deeply with his nose, catching the scent of cleanness and earth yet also the unpleasant odour of his own blood and sweat, the leader knocked his hooded head slightly to the side, watching a hawk fly across the unblemished sky. It was a bird of prey, a hunter. Just like he was. Letting the ghost of a smile play around the tips of his scarred lips, he hunched his back ever so slightly, allowing the extra patch of material on his hood to form into the shape of a beak. A hawk's beak.

'And...'

He was just like the bird. A free soul who travelled silently yet efficiently anywhere he wanted. He needed no people with him, just his own instincts and weapons. He was a hunter, a relentless murderer who could slit a throat without a single tang of remorse or sadness.

'Fly!' Rauf called.

The leader didn't take a running start or jump, he simply let his body tumble forwards and allowed the air to do the rest. While falling his arms went up while his legs hooked. Like a hawk. The air pushed against him, running its fingers over his body and slipping into his hood. Everything felt so free, so right! He was born to do this.

Burning amber eyes no different from the hunter in the sky snapped open.

_I am Altair Ibn-La'Ahad and I am an Assassin._


End file.
